


A Reunion

by staticscreams



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Masturbation, NSFW, Smut, emilia cousland, girl on top, might have slightly took inspiration from the isabela da2 scene, obviously, tiny bit off fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 15:12:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3072536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staticscreams/pseuds/staticscreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emilia Cousland, Warden-Commander and Hero of Ferelden, has been apart from her lover for months now, each on their own mission. Alistair was supposed to look into Corypheus, and Emilia was supposed to be looking into a cure for the taint. But with the end of the world practically on their doorstep, how could the two be apart?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> Warden Alistair gets so much more screen-time in Inquisition, and I've been so in love with writing an Inquisition-era love scene between him and my Warden. I also totally imagine her showing up at Skyhold at some point. Might write that later, might not. Also, Alistair just honestly looks really good in Inquisition. REALLY good.

The pink light inside the thick of the forest came from the sun just barely setting over the horizon. It definitely reminded Emilia Cousland, Warden-Commander and Hero of Ferelden, of the Brecilian forest-those memories of the towering temples, decayed and beautiful, and the ginormous trees that were ever so green, towering over her and companions, coming to her mind as she trekked through the overgrown path. _Of course the path is overgrown, I’m the only one who tends to it,_ she thought to herself. Which was true. Even though the house was technically both hers _and_ Alistair’s, Emilia was usually the only one cleaning up the place-from trimming the brush to sweeping the floors. But truthfully, she didn’t mind too much. They had a home-that was good enough for her.

The small cottage that Alistair and Emilia shared was near Highever-near her family estate-in a thick forest. The two had found the cottage years ago during a trip to Redcliffe, and had found it abandoned. When they returned from Redcliffe, it was still abandoned, so they decided to keep it as their own. They had spent that entire summer rebuilding it-putting in a new floor, a new bed, replacing the windows, etcetera. The place was now theirs-someplace to go when the couple wasn’t traveling. A meeting place. Nobody knew of it but them-it was private. And Emilia liked it that way. She was pretty sure Alistair liked it that way, too.

Emilia found the small path that led to the cottage-and found a thorn bush sticking out amongst the other bushes. She rolled her eyes-no doubt when she saw Alistair, he would probably have scratches up his arms and he would ask her to bandage him up. But even so, he wouldn’t cut the bush down himself. Emilia was probably going to have to do it before she left again. But she would do it without complaint because sometimes it just felt good to take care of someone other than herself. She followed the small dirt path, as it led to cobblestone. She continued on, past a lining of trees into a small clearing. Emilia smiled to herself as she saw her home before her.

Emilia didn’t even make it up the front steps before Alistair appeared in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest and a huge smile on his face. He wasn’t wearing any armor-as he probably arrived a day or two before her-and was in a shirt and breeches instead. Emilia immediately ran into her lover’s arms, and he lifted her off the ground, allowing for her legs to wrap around his waist. He carried her into the house, not even bothering to close the door behind him. He pressed several kisses to her forehead, her nose, her cheeks,  her eyelids, and her lips. She giggled, allowing for his tongue to slip into her mouth. The kiss was messy and needy and it was everything that they wanted after months of absolutely no contact between the two of them. 

Emilia kicked off her boots and removed her cloak, letting it fall to the floor with a soft _thud_. Underneath, she was wearing a plain shirt, a pair of leather breeches and her favorite boots-still fully clothed. But probably not for long. They made their way down the hallway, still not separating, their lips practically stuck together. Alistair grabbed one of the knives from her belt and discarded it on the ground. His other hand reached around her side-grabbing her bottom first-and discarded the other knife onto the floor as well. 

When Emilia and Alistair finally made it to the bedroom, he pressed her against the wall, accidentally knocking over a vase from the dressing table. The two ignored it. It didn’t matter-all that mattered was that they were together, and they were close, _touching_. She could feel his warmth, his heat, and she wanted more. She _needed_ him. They hadn’t seen each other in months-they needed this. They needed each other- _ached_ for each other. Everything else could wait.

Emilia wound her fingers through Alistair’s strawberry-blonde hair, gently tugging, eliciting a small groan from him. She smiled against his lips, as he brought them over to the bed. They fell back onto the soft mattress, with him on the bottom. She grinned wickedly, sitting back and straddling him. He looked up at her, his face flushed, a small smirk upturned on his lips. He knew he was about to get very, very lucky. 

She tugged on the bottom of Alistair’s shirt, attempting to take it off. He grinned, removing it himself and throwing it across the room. It was Emilia’s turn-she pulled off her shirt, revealing her naked breasts. She wasn’t wearing any undergarments today. Mostly because she expected this sort of thing to happen when she got home. At the sight of Emilia’s breasts, Alistair’s breath hitched and she could feel his erection straining against his pants underneath her.  His strong, calloused hands traveled from her stomach to the small of her back, pushing her down so she was lying on top of him. Their lips met again, but only for a quick kiss. He then rolled over, so he was on top.

He began kissing her jaw, down to her neck, sucking on the flesh hard enough to bruise. He peppered kisses downwards, to her collarbones, lightly nibbling on them. He left a trail of languid kisses down to her chest, then cupped her breasts in his hands. Emilia let out a soft sigh, and he began stroking her hardened nipples, suckling on the soft flesh.

When the two first started having sex, they were both fumbling around in the darkness of their tents, snickering between kisses and gasps and moans. He used to be so unsure of himself, not sure how to touch her, not sure what Emilia would like. The sex was also always over not long after they began. But ten years later, they were completely used to each other’s bodies. They knew everything about each other-including how to turn each other on and what really felt good. Sometimes, the sex would last for what seemed like forever-hours of slow, passionate love-making. Sometimes, it was rough and dirty-and usually involved Alistair’s lover bent over the kitchen table. And she loved all of it.

His hands ghosted along her sides, sending shivers up her spine. Alistair’s hands lingered around the waistband of her pants for a while before finally pushing them down her waist. She kicked them off while he removed his, still gently kissing and nibbling at her skin. He crawled back up so they were face-to-face, and then kissed her hungrily on the lips. She moaned softly into his mouth, feeling his erection press against her leg.

Emilia and Alistair flipped over once more, so Emilia was back on top. She sat up so she was straddling him again, and she bit her lip. Alistair gave her a look of half-lidded lust and she thought, _Maker, I want him._ She inched forward on the bed, gripping onto his hard member, then sliding down onto it, eliciting a small moan from the both of them. Alistair moved his hands up to hold her hips, his fingers lightly digging into her skin.

The first few thrusts-her, grinding on top of him and him bucking his hips into her-were awkward, but it didn’t take long to find a rhythm that worked _. It feels so good_ , Emilia thought. She bit her lip, one hand moving to grip her breasts, massaging one in her hand. She moved her other hand towards her mouth, sucking on her middle finger. Her bright, icy blue eyes met Alistair’s amber eyes, and she smirked, removing the finger and trailing it down her body, towards her core, leaving a wet streak in its wake. When her fingers finally found their way down, she pushed past her folds to the sensitive nub, letting out a soft whimper, her eyes shut tight. She began touching herself, making small circles around her clit. When she opened her eyes again to look at Alistair, she could see that he was absolutely enthralled by the sight of her pleasuring herself. His head was thrown back onto the pillow, and his mouth was slightly hanging open, groans making their way past his lips.

Her fingers began working faster, circling the sensitive nub at a much quicker pace. Alistair and Emilia weren’t going too fast, and not too slow either. It was a steady pace, one that they were both able to keep in sync with. His fingers were still digging into her hips, but his grip was tighter, as his hips began stuttering underneath his lover. He was probably going to reach orgasm soon-and Emilia didn’t blame him. It had definitely been a while. She let out a loud moan, her hands shaking. She was probably going to reach an orgasm soon, too. The hand that had been massaging her breasts moved upward, through her thick brown hair. She swept it out of her face so she could get view of Alistair, who was underneath her, being commanded by her movements. This was definitely one of her favorite positions-and one of his too; all he had to do was sit back and watch as his lover got off on top of him.

She sucked in a shaky breath, feeling release not too far away. Her skin felt tingly, and each movement sent sparks running up her spine, her breathing becoming more erratic. Alistair let out a low groan from deep in his throat, and their eyes met again. There was no embarrassment in that look-only pure lust, between two lovers. Two lovers who had been together for ten years, who cared for each other deeply, who trusted each other. Two lovers who were so comfortable with each other, who were so willing to give their bodies to each other, to pleasure each other.

 Emilia quickened the pace a little bit, and Alistair groaned again, louder this time.

Her hands were shaking still, but still doing their work, bringing her closer and closer to the edge, a flush slowly creeping up her neck. She let out another moan, “Alistair…”  and hearing the sound of his name on her lips made him gasp. _Oh, Maker_ , she thought, as was getting close. _Very, very close._ Her mouth fell open and she softly cried out Alistair’s name again. It sounded like a whimper, as she brought herself to an orgasm. Her walls closed tight around Alistair, and she could feel his length twitching inside her. She cried out once more, louder this time, riding out her orgasm with Alistair’s.

“Oh, Maker,” Alistair groaned, bucking his hips into her one last time. Emilia let out a few more loud moans before she was finally spent. They were _both_ spent, having found release at the same time. She loved when that happened. She climbed off of him, resting next to him on the bed and leaning her head against his chest. He kissed her hair, breathing in the scent of her vanilla soap. “Maker, I love you. I’ve missed you so, so much.”

“I’ve missed you too,” Emilia murmured into his chest, wrapping an arm around his torso and hooking one of her legs over his. He ran his fingers gently up and down her spine, and it was a pleasant sensation, so relaxing. She so desperately wanted to fall asleep, just nestle her head in the crook of his neck and relax. It had been a long journey-and she was finally home. The Warden just wanted to rest, to lay in his arms and let sleep take over her body. But there was something bugging her-something that had been forgotten.

“Alistair,” She murmured.

“Hmm?”

“You left the front door open,” She snickered.


End file.
